tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64967032554063083722019-05-05T04:24:15.942-04:00Angel Steps"Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of faith..it is the price of love"mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.comBlogger342125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-86537184683363010222019-04-11T18:44:00.000-04:002019-04-11T18:44:30.610-04:0010 years later...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">When I was growing up, my dad would always say, "3 years later" when waiting for something for too long.&nbsp; We've said it to our daughter and she takes a spin of her own (1000 years later, 10 light years later, etc.).&nbsp; It's strange that I connect that amusing memory with my life now...10 years later.<br /><br />My wedding anniversary is the day before Trey's Angel Day.&nbsp; Our pastor told us to wait, to not turn off Trey's machines on our anniversary as it would mar our special day.&nbsp; He was the pastor who officiated our wedding, the pastor who memorialized Trey, and Baptized our daughter.&nbsp; &nbsp;He was also the man who told me, when I said I hated God, that God understood, that God is angry and mourning too.<br /><br />We waited alright.&nbsp; As we heard our son's fate and that he would not have any quality of life that the hospital pastor asked me, "How are you feeling right now?" (Such a trite question considering his profession).&nbsp; I told him I wanted to die.&nbsp; He asked, "What about your husband?".&nbsp; I said, "I'm sure he wants to die too.".&nbsp; As we left the NICU that day, I was sobbing loudly and a stranger told me that it was going to be ok.&nbsp; I snapped back "MY SON IS DYING!!!".&nbsp; I wish I could apologize to her, but the truth hurts.<br /><br />This post went a little deeper than I anticipated but I am glad for it.&nbsp; It is cathartic to tell the raw truth.&nbsp; Stay tuned for part 2, I need to wrap myself around the reason why I diverted the topic though I promise I will continue as long as I need.<br /><br />Such is grief, it turns and twists when you least expect it, especially when you're in a good place.</div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-61478825713769957782018-09-06T21:40:00.005-04:002018-09-06T21:44:51.188-04:00Taking care of ME!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Things have gotten turbulent in my area of reality as of late, well, for a while (or is it awhile).&nbsp; My anxiety is at an all time high as I am starting to have almost daily panic attacks which involve so much more than I am willing to indulge even in my own blog.&nbsp; Hell, I've got to hold SOME things sacred to myself for my own journey.<br /><br />Here's what I CAN share: My avoidance of my mental state over the past decade (almost) led me to merely manage my mental health instead of improving it.&nbsp; And, with the words of someone I didn't expect, my focus became inward, a self-reflection to be honest.&nbsp; I'm sure I've written about it before on my blog, yet now it is like a white head zit about to get ugly.<br /><br />"Don't treat this like the beginning of the end."&nbsp; This was not said under the same circumstances yet ended up becoming an opportunity to reflect on the past 9 1/2 years.&nbsp; Holy cow!!!&nbsp; Has it been that long?<br /><br />When the bottom dropped out and it was confirmed we were LIED to about Trey's condition, all hope in me was lost.&nbsp; We spent a week and a half having hope for our son's survival only for that hope to be destroyed.<br /><br />I lost hope that day, hope that I had carried my WHOLE life as the optimist I was and hope to soon be again.<br /><br />SO, my utter disregard of my own struggles and solutions to those struggles led me to simply getting the very support that I need, support I had taken for granted.<br /><br />It bit me in the ass and BOY HOWDIE am I glad!<br /><br />I met with a new doctor today and unloaded my life, mostly after Trey's passing but not without everything before.<br /><br />My anxiety has taken control and I want my control back!!!&nbsp; I am realizing that 9.5 years ago I lost the most precious thing I ever had, myself.&nbsp; Ever since then, I have lived in fear of the unknown and even the possibilities.&nbsp; I have tried to cope with it on my own through various ways I am not proud of and some I&nbsp; befuddled by.&nbsp; &nbsp;I have always expected more of myself.&nbsp; I was taught to do better by all who love me yet I still am paralyzed by expecting the worst in every situation.<br /><br />Most people know me as the upbeat and positively obnoxious person I am proud to be.&nbsp; But only those close to me know how much I struggle.<br /><br />I struggle to be positive.&nbsp; I struggle to live in the moment.&nbsp; I struggle with resentment and blame.&nbsp; I struggle with crumbling under confrontation.&nbsp; I struggle to hold myself accountable and follow through with goals I set for myself.&nbsp; I struggle with self loathing.&nbsp; I struggle with admitting I need help.&nbsp; I struggle to stand on my own 2 feet.&nbsp; I struggle to not let others steal my power.&nbsp; I struggle to not let myself steal my own power.&nbsp; I struggle with self control.&nbsp; I struggle with perserverence.&nbsp; I struggle to keep going on with this diatribe because it seems I am only getting in my own way.<br /><br />I have even struggled keeping up with this blog, the very blog I started to unite families affected by the loss of a child and the communities that support them.<br /><br />My anxiety says I am a failure but failure has NEVER been an option.<br /><br />So I want to IMPLORE ANYONE who is going through any type of trauma to speak.<br /><br />&nbsp;Speak to your friends.<br /><br />Speak to your family.<br /><br />Speak to a therapist.<br /><br />Speak through your talents.<br /><br />Speak your truth.<br /><br />Speak your pain.<br /><br />Speak your struggles.<br /><br />Speak YOU!!<br /><br /><br /></div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-90550848856239960242018-06-13T23:33:00.001-04:002018-06-13T23:33:27.315-04:00That Moment<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I love going to the beach, especially with my family.&nbsp; My daughter is of the age where she is self sufficient and I love sitting in my beach chair and watching her play with other children, search for shells, cruise the waves, dig holes, play with us, and, more recently, put her goggles on and swim under water.&nbsp; It's pure joy on top of relaxation.&nbsp; Each year, our experience at the beach as a family changes and grows.&nbsp; Long ago are the days when we hovered over her making sure, at 10 months old, that she didn't eat sand or get too tired.&nbsp;<br /><br />Throughout the years, we have seen and met many families.&nbsp; All of which have had children of all ages and Lorelei loves playing with them all.&nbsp; She has always been engaged with children of all ages, yet on the beach she gravitated towards children who can actually play with her.&nbsp; &nbsp;That's the scenery I get to enjoy beyond the obvious. I've never paid any mind to the younger children because I was too busy watching her play with her peers.<br /><br />This last trip, a week ago, she was playing in the water with her dad and I was looking on. A family passed by with a son who was about a year old. He was so timid about the water, curious but not quite sure. His parents and grandparents, I assume, were doing everything they could to encourage him and so was I from afar. And as he got braver and began to enjoy the ebb and flow of the waves, and then get skittish again, I realized what I never had with my son.&nbsp; I was literally sitting there encouraging him the way I would my own child.<br /><br />My breathing got labored, I started to sweat beyond what the sun made me do. I started to that thing I do when my head and my heart are wrapped around something emotional, my head swept back and forth slowly, seemingly trying to keep the tears from coming.&nbsp; I took a deep breath, but nothing subsided. I tried not to look at them, but their experience was too precious and beautiful to keep my eyes away. It was a precious moment for a child, his parents, and anyone who ever has the joy of experiencing it, even as an observer.<br /><br />It's moments like these that suck the joy out of life sometimes. I have spent years marvelling over milestones that I have gotten to experience with my daughter very rarely catching myself in such a despairing connection with what we did not have with Trey. The milestones that I lament our birthdays and grade level changes, and of course him becoming an angel. As a teacher, I see birthdates all the time, and only this past school year have I seen his, and it didn't affect me the way I thought it would. Maybe it's because it's been so long and I had hoped I'd never find someone with the same birthday as hin or the day that he died and I was glad for it.<br /><br />That moment, relaxing in the sand the book in my hand, watching my daughter play, yet distracted by this young boy and his loving and his loving guardians giving him his first experience at the beach shook me to the point that I had to stand up and walk away. My husband was watching my daughter but I had to go away and take a deep breath to keep from crying. I didn't have to do that when I saw that one of my students had his birthday. It's curious.<br /><br />I always talk about the things that I would never experience with him like they're fact, and which they are. Those are always in the back of my mind. I watch Lorelei grow and thrive through such milestones and the joy of it pushes the lack of the same from Trey to the back burner.&nbsp; I guess what surprised me was finding such joy and seeing a baby experience the beach for the first time, and finding such sorrow in it.<br /><br />What grabbed my attention that the same time was that you can go so long living on, that these experiences can sweep you right back to the start in a second. For the past 7 years I have been living life for my daughter, giving her experiences, encouraging her milestones, and celebrating her conquering the ocean waves of life. I remember it like it was yesterday. She squealed like a pig on her first trip to the beach.&nbsp; She was so excited when her daddy pulled her up in the air when the waves came at her. She stared with wild wonder at her toes as the water and sand washed over them. My favorite, she wiggled her toes as the sand and the water rushed over her feet and then kick with reckless abandon.&nbsp; I'm blessed to have these memories with her and her father. It broke my heart that day that I never had them, these precious memories, with Trey.<br /><br /><br /></div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-90428592033056521602018-05-18T11:17:00.000-04:002018-05-18T11:17:53.738-04:00After the Rain<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I remember vividly the outpouring of support when Trey was born and when he passed.&nbsp; The messages, comments, post views, meals, phone calls, texts, and visits were so vast it was almost overwhelming.&nbsp; As soon as 2 weeks after he passed, the support waned gradually.<br /><br />I don't think this is unique to child loss.&nbsp; I haven't experienced too many deaths of people who I am close with thank goodness but I am also guilty of pouring on the support when such an event happens to someone else then backing off.&nbsp; If we are honest with ourselves, we all are.<br /><br />But we can't beat ourselves or others up about it.&nbsp; The intense emotions we feel when someone else experiences loss are parallel to the intense emotions felt by those affected by the loss.&nbsp; Over time, those emotions slowly lose that intensity for both the griever and the supporter.&nbsp; The difference is, for the griever this happens much slower.&nbsp; The grief is worn and lived everyday in every way.&nbsp; The problem is, the support is still needed.<br /><br />This is a mixed blessing because we are left with our own grief which can lead to personal healing, however, we are left alone to without anyone to to listen and be a shoulder to cry on.<br /><br />If you're anything like me, I didn't want to drag people into my pity party but I also couldn't deal with handle the powerful thoughts and emotions drowning me.&nbsp; I had to set aside my pride and reach out.&nbsp; Throughout my maternity leave, I would call my husband multiple times a day distraught and begging him to come home because I couldn't bare to be alone.<br /><br />Although any comfort is better than no comfort at all, I found the most solace in those who have also lost a child.&nbsp; There were so many emotions and thoughts I could share with them with they related to and had insight about.&nbsp; Their advice sustained me if just in the moment.&nbsp; The thing is, luckily there weren't too many I knew who had lost a child or at least didn't talk about it.&nbsp; Friends came out of the woodwork, surprisingly, sharing their stories and giving me assurance that I was not going crazy.<br /><br />The hardest part to me was the avoidance.&nbsp; People would avoid me when I brought him up or change the subject.&nbsp; Conversations were cut short and/or people would give misguided advice about me getting over it.&nbsp; Those very same people who, in the beginning, said they were there for me and to reach our anytime were nowhere to be found.&nbsp; The closest emotion I could assign to this is abandonment.<br /><br />In reality, child-loss represents a minuscule percentage of loss that many people have not experienced.&nbsp; They can only sympathize with our pain and give the normal responses given for loss.&nbsp; It's God's will.&nbsp; Everything happens for a reason.&nbsp; Time heals all wounds.&nbsp; You're in my prayers.&nbsp; The list goes on and on.&nbsp; Expanding on that point, thoughts and prayers seem like empty promises for someone who doesn't know what else to say.&nbsp; Actions truly speak louder than words.&nbsp; As sad as it is to say it, thank goodness they don't know what to say.&nbsp; Thank goodness they haven't experienced this kind of pain.<br /><br />Yet, there was and is always my tribe that would listen whenever I talked about Trey.&nbsp; There was and is no judgement only listening ears and hugs.&nbsp; They are my tribe.&nbsp; Trey is a part of their lives too.&nbsp; He is real and not just something that happened.<br /><br />What I've learned is that we have to be gentle on ourselves and others when it comes to the decrease in support.&nbsp; It's hard not to feel bitter, speaking for myself, but we must reflect on our own support for others to empathize with others knowing we are all human.&nbsp; I have used this experience to reach out to others giving them a shoulder, lending an ear, and supporting them in whatever way they need.&nbsp; I hear about someone losing a child and I reach out immediately letting them know that IF they need me, I am always here.<br /><br />We are all members of a club none of us signed up for but we must stick together.&nbsp; Holding each other up helps our healing and makes it possible for the world to be our friend again.&nbsp;&nbsp;</div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-61693496879439004952017-10-03T21:44:00.001-04:002017-10-03T21:44:52.791-04:00Gravity...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div aria-level="3" class="_W5e _X5e" role="heading" style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.87); font-family: Roboto-Medium, HelveticaNeue-Medium, HelveticaNeue, sans-serif-medium, Arial, sans-serif !important; font-size: 14px; margin: 16px 16px 12px; max-height: 999999px;">Lyrics</div><div class="_ARr" data-hveid="41" data-ved="0ahUKEwj4lbqp69XWAhVKRCYKHSP1BgsQsEwIKSgBMAE" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Roboto-Regular, HelveticaNeue, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; max-height: 999999px; padding-left: 16px;"><div class="_UZe kno-fb-ctx" style="margin-top: 4px; max-height: 999999px;"><div style="line-height: 1.24; margin-bottom: 13px; max-height: 999999px;">Something always brings me back to you<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />It never takes too long<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />No matter what I say or do<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />I'll still feel you here 'till the moment I'm gone</div><div style="line-height: 1.24; margin-bottom: 13px; max-height: 999999px;">You hold me without touch<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />You keep me without chains<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />I never wanted anything so much than to drown in your love&nbsp;<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />And not feel your reign</div><div style="line-height: 1.24; margin-bottom: 13px; max-height: 999999px;">Set me free, leave me be<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />Here I am, and I stand<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />So tall, just the way I'm supposed to be<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />But you're on to me and all over me</div><div style="line-height: 1.24; margin-bottom: 13px; max-height: 999999px;">Oh, you loved me 'cause I'm fragile<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />When I thought that I was strong<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />But you touch me for a little while&nbsp;<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />And all my fragile strength is gone</div></div><div class="_UZe kno-fb-ctx" style="margin-top: 4px; max-height: 999999px;"><div class="_Nvn" data-mh="-1" style="line-height: 1.24; margin-bottom: 13px; max-height: 999999px;">Set me free, leave me be<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />Here I am, and I stand<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />So tall, just the way I'm supposed to be<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />But you're on to me and all over me</div><div class="xpdxpnd" data-mh="-1" style="line-height: 1.24; margin-bottom: 13px; max-height: 999999px;">I live here on my knees as I try to make you see&nbsp;<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />That you're everything I think I need here on the ground<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />But you're neither friend nor foe though I can't seem to let you go<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />The one thing that I still know is that you're keeping me down<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />You're keeping me down, eh ooh<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />You're on to me, on to me, and all over</div><div class="xpdxpnd" data-mh="-1" style="line-height: 1.24; margin-bottom: 0px; max-height: 999999px;">Something always brings me back to you<br style="max-height: 999999px;" />It never takes too long</div></div></div></div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-68793714735989509952017-09-13T12:32:00.001-04:002017-09-13T12:32:59.128-04:00Little Pieces<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Trey,<br />I packed up your clothes today though some might think it odd I had not done it already. &nbsp;I always held out hope that I would have another little boy that would be able to wear them. &nbsp;Sadly, I am coming to grips with why I have always wanted three children. &nbsp;It wasn't a childhood fantasy but a foretelling of my life at this point. <br /><br />For weeks I have trying to get myself to the point of giving your clothes away but, even though I reached out for leads to a family in dire need, I came up empty. &nbsp;I didn't want them to go to just anyone, you AREN'T just anyone. &nbsp;Just as I do a service project on your Birthday each year, I wanted them to go to a family that needs support. &nbsp;Yes, I know, I could've found that anywhere, but I NEEDED to &nbsp;know where they would go and that they would be worn and passed on to the next family in need for the same purpose. &nbsp;I'm sure your Daddy thought I would have them forever.<br /><br />So today, I packed them up to be given to teenage mothers who need help providing for their children. &nbsp;A dear neighbor friend's company supports these young women and I have faith that they will take care of them and pass them on to others in need.<br /><br />It was hard stuffing them into trash bags and I even stopped for a moment to ponder the symbolism of them being in trash bags as opposed to boxes as I would normally pass your sister's clothes on in. &nbsp;I shamed myself for throwing you out like trash when your sister's stuff is put neatly in a box. &nbsp;Well, I didn't have any boxes and the bags are easier to tote clothes in. &nbsp;For the record, all three garbage bags were stuffed to capacity and were ones that had the FreBreeze air freshener on them so there's an upgrade for you.<br /><br />Most of the clothes were never worn, some still in their original packaging or are on hangers with the tags still on them. &nbsp;They represent so many hopes and dreams of a life up to 18 months even though we didn't even get a month. &nbsp;They represent a present tense in which you never grew out of them. &nbsp;The represent my wish for another baby in shambles. &nbsp;The represent the love of those around us who gave them to us in excitement for your arrival. &nbsp;But now, they will go on to represent new life, warmth, care, sustainability for another little boy.<br /><br />Why did I keep them so long? &nbsp;A grieving mother does not always know her own secrets. &nbsp;I knew the baby train had sailed years ago but there was always hope. &nbsp;Maybe we will foster or adopt. &nbsp;Maybe someone I know will have a baby boy and I will remember to pass them on. &nbsp;All of the rest of the "maybes" drifted off like the excuses they were. <br /><br />All I know is that over the past few years I have been letting go of baby stuff that belonged to both you and your sister. &nbsp;It is heartbreaking on so many levels. &nbsp;Not having baby stuff in the house is a harsh reminder of my fate as a mother, 3 children wanted, only 1 living one to show for it. &nbsp;It is a whole different kind of mourning, as if mourning you weren't too much already. <br /><br />Not everything of yours is gone. &nbsp;Your chest of cherished items and memories will NEVER leave our home, not until we are with you in Heaven. &nbsp;Your sister will surely take care of it for us then. <br /><br />Until then, I miss you even more now that those clothes are packed up and ready to go. &nbsp;Every time I pass on the baby stuff that belonged to you and Lorelei, I lose you a little more. &nbsp;Little pieces of you are leaving my life and I had so little of you to begin with.<br /><br />It's just another painful muddy step in this journey called life. &nbsp;Hopefully, your belongings will make someone else's journey a little more sturdy.&nbsp;</div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-22990669311935639512017-08-29T20:46:00.000-04:002017-08-29T20:46:08.782-04:00Expecting the worst...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I spent so much time hoping for the best when it came to Trey. &nbsp;Even when we heard worrisome news when he was still in my belly, even when I was admitted into the hospital pre term labor, even when he was born 6 weeks early. &nbsp;I always held such strength even through worry.<br /><br />I think if I had thought realistically instead of hoping and having faith, all of this wouldn't have been so hard.<br /><br />Anyone who knows me knows I rule by my heart, I don't know how to choose my head unless I am showing my intelligence. &nbsp;I love him and there was nothing else to do except hope. &nbsp;I pumped milk and gave any updates with the emphasis of hope. &nbsp;He was living, thriving, stable. &nbsp;RIGHT?<br /><br />WRONG!!! Being brought back to reality due to a series of lies digs a hole in a person. &nbsp;My hope turned to dust in the desert that used to hold an oasis of possibilities. &nbsp;A mirage really.<br /><br />I haven't been the same since.<br /><br />Once upon a time I always expected the best. &nbsp;I have no idea what that feels like anymore. &nbsp;My anxiety is a beast when faced with conflict. &nbsp;I never really liked conflict to begin with but I always tried my best to resolve it in the most positive way I could think of.<br /><br />Now, I am constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the ulterior motive to be revealed after it's too late. &nbsp;Everytime things seem iffy, I expect that certain doom is coming.<br /><br />I spend so much time analyzing everything I have done wrong and rationalizing false perceptions of me. &nbsp;I could not possibly be aware and competent if I didn't realize something was wrong when I carried him. &nbsp;I must have been in Lala Land if I believed that he was thriving after he was born.<br /><br />Doubt plagues me.<br /><br />I lost myself in paranoia when my ability as a teacher came into question. &nbsp;I acted as a person who could not function on logic alone. &nbsp;I knew I was doing the right thing for my students, helping them succeed yet acted on the judgment of a superior, cowering to make everything ok again. &nbsp; Epic fail. &nbsp;I sabotaged myself and lost my job. &nbsp;I crumbled under the stress when I faced it head on like when we believed Trey would be ok.<br /><br />How quickly I doubted myself after I lost my confidence then lost my job. &nbsp;Looking back, maybe my "boss" took advantage of my insecurity. &nbsp;Never again.<br /><br />Then another challenge came and I was once again put to the test but I was starting to gain steam. &nbsp;I spent the summer break trying to figure out why I was such an emotional wreck under pressure. It was simple. I was scared the worst would happen. &nbsp;After all, I believed with every ounce of my being that Trey would be ok so that should set some sort of presidence. &nbsp;Yet, I was wrong and felt doomed to be wrong for the rest of my life because o should've known better. &nbsp;I should've been smarter, more aware, more realistic. &nbsp;I could not &nbsp;anticipate the &nbsp;horror that was to come. <br /><br />I remembered what the very person who fought for me to be hired said. "Don't act as if it is the beginning of the end." &nbsp;That changed me, or at least redirected me. <br /><br />It's all still a process but I am steadily gaining my confidence and hope back. &nbsp;Nothing is a lost cause anymore. &nbsp;If anything, I try to gift and inspire others with love and hope. &nbsp;I surprise co-workers with treats as I used to when I wasn't so concerned with my own confidence. &nbsp;I smile more and convey well wishes even when I am down.<br /><br />All of this makes me happy and proves that though the anxiety and loss are still there, I can can connect with others on a loving level knowing that they are going through their own journeys.<br /><br />But more importantly, &nbsp;I don't freak out as much as I used yo. &nbsp;I can laugh at myself and at the same time analyze myself rationally so that I don't give someone else my power. <br /><br />I will never ever be who I was before Trey, but, I am moving forward holding my true self in tact carrying every burden, holding it high yet stopping to recollect when my caravan of blessings need the reigns pulled in so I can rest and reflect.<br /><br /><br /></div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-32376592038944695332017-08-28T21:04:00.001-04:002017-08-28T21:04:44.770-04:00I will never forgive myself <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Trey, I left you. &nbsp;I abandoned you when you needed me the most. &nbsp;The NICU doctors told us that we needed to give you space, that being around you too much would excite you too much. &nbsp;We came to visit when we were desperate to see our baby. We listened to them. &nbsp;We never should've. &nbsp; You were our baby. &nbsp;We didn't know what was about to happen. &nbsp; It's no excuse. &nbsp;We should've been with you night and day. &nbsp;Our son needed us. &nbsp;We didn't know what we should've been doing. &nbsp;We were recovering and coping at the same time. <br /><br />It wasn't until it was too late, until you were at the Children's Hospital that we had "definite " hope. &nbsp; We stayed the night that first night and stayed as long as we could each day. &nbsp;Then we were told you were struggling. &nbsp;There were devastating feelings to deal with and life ending decisions to be made. &nbsp;We weren't with you as much in those days. &nbsp;We had to sort through so much emotionally and mentally.<br /><br />We were with you when your daddy signed papers to turn off the machines and let you rest in peace. &nbsp;I told your daddy I didn't want to see you die. &nbsp;He took me home. &nbsp;I will never forgive myself.<br /><br />I was a coward. &nbsp; I was afraid to face what you were going through. If I stayed away, maybe what I had done to you in the womb would get better. &nbsp;It has to be my fault, what happened to you. &nbsp;I should've known something was wrong. &nbsp; I should've asked more questions when no one said anything about test results. &nbsp;Even the OBGYN staff asked why I didn't follow up. &nbsp;I can't rest on the fact I was waiting for them to tell me. &nbsp;I should've known. <br /><br />Then we had to hear on a phone call that you went peacefully with my parents, my aunt, and your daddy's parents. &nbsp;We weren't there because your daddy said his place was with me. &nbsp;How selfish of me. &nbsp;OUR place was with you. &nbsp;I robbed your daddy of being with you when you left this world. &nbsp;I will never forgive myself for doing that to you and your daddy. I will never forgive myself for not having the courage to be there for you both. &nbsp;I hope you can forgive me. &nbsp;Don't think I ever can forgive myself.</div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-8554931250490977982017-08-16T12:36:00.003-04:002017-08-16T12:36:58.080-04:00Trey's Service Project Extended<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-size: large;">In December of last year, one of my students found out that he had Leukemia for the 2nd time. &nbsp;As you can imagine this news was devastating to him and his family not to mention the financial strain it has put on his parents. &nbsp;In March, my service project for Trey's Birthday centered around raising money for his family symbolizing the 2500 plus days we have been without Trey. &nbsp;We didn't raise NEARLY as much as I would've liked so I have vowed to keep the YouCaring donation site up until we reach our goal. &nbsp;Please see the information below, share and give if you are able. &nbsp;THANKS!</span><br /><a href="https://www.blogger.com/goog_105813923"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #494949; font-family: proxima-nova, sans-serif;">April 4th, 2017 will mark 2,922 days without our son Trey earned his wings and was freed from complications of CHARGE Syndrome. &nbsp;Every year I perform a service project in his honor. &nbsp;This year's project is especially personal because it centers around one of my students who is conquering Leukemia for the 2nd time. &nbsp;Ryan is a charismatic young man who has put up quite a fight against this disease.</span><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #494949; font-family: proxima-nova, sans-serif;" /><br style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #494949; font-family: proxima-nova, sans-serif;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #494949; font-family: proxima-nova, sans-serif;">In remembrance of the 2,922 days without our son, I would like to raise $2,922 for the Alarcon family to assist with expenses incurred during this battle. &nbsp;Of course I hope to raise more. &nbsp;Please share this event with everyone so we can drum up some support. &nbsp;The fundraiser will end on April 4, 2017 which is Trey's 8th Heavenly Birthday. &nbsp;Thank you in advance for your support and for spreading the word! &nbsp;#savageryan12 #cancersucks &nbsp;&nbsp;</span></span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #494949; font-family: proxima-nova, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #494949; font-family: proxima-nova, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Click the link below:</span></span><br /><a href="https://www.youcaring.com/thealarconfamily-763905" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Rooting For Ryan</span></a></div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-84180692914294112102017-08-01T09:47:00.000-04:002017-08-01T09:47:01.160-04:00What Lies Ahead<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">There are times when I look back on all we've been through with fertility and losing our son and I never imagined, even as a child, such things could occur. &nbsp;I look at my daughter every now and again wondering what she will have to go through as a mother. <br /><br />Is infertility passed down? &nbsp;Will she struggle to get pregnant the way we did? &nbsp;If so, I dread watching her go through the heartbreaking journey.<br /><br />I KNOW she and her unborn children will be tested for CHARGE Syndrome even though the doctors have told us Trey's case was a fluke. &nbsp;By then I am sure she will know more details surrounding her brother's passing, I will HAVE to tell her. &nbsp;She deserves to know before she decides to have a family. &nbsp;How would her partner feel about all of it? &nbsp;Would he/she be too scared to risk having a child born with a medical condition that can span a long range in complexity? &nbsp;Would he/she risk having a child with CHARGE only to have it die? <br /><br />These worries don't plague me all of the time, but every now and again, I get the same worries that all mothers do about what the future holds for their children. &nbsp;I cannot control what will happen but I hope I am around and able to be a source of support for her if there are roadblocks. &nbsp;I hope to celebrate the blessings life has in store for her. &nbsp;But mostly, I can only hold hope that her journey into and through parenthood will bear no resemblance to the rocky road I traveled.</div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-87385981091055083692017-07-21T08:57:00.001-04:002017-07-21T08:57:48.149-04:00Writer's Block<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Well, here I am again, a year after my last post, trying to figure out how I have strayed so far from my blog. &nbsp;It has really been on my mind as of late. &nbsp;I think about it on Angel Babies' birthdays, when friends share things about their babies on social media, when parents speak of their Angels, when I see the Angel Steps logo sticker on my car (note to self: get more made), when someone references Angel Steps, when I share on the Angel Steps Facebook site, when I am spear heading Trey's service projects, when my receipt comes in each month for the payment for this site, and on Trey days.<br /><br />So with all of this thinking, I am still not posting. &nbsp;I have awesome ideas but life gets in the way. I am so busy "living" in the present it's hard to retreat to the past. &nbsp;Yet, I don't think the past is why I started all of this. &nbsp;I didn't want Angel Steps to become a lamented place and I think that, at the beginning at least, I tried to make this blog about living and loving through loss. &nbsp;I am still living and loving through my loss and I still have some great ideas of what to write about.<br /><br />That being said, I am an idea person which sometimes means that ideas keep floating out there because I am not all that skilled in follow through. &nbsp;I need to start jotting my ideas down and taking time each week, or whenever I can, to transform these ideas into communication and healing.<br /><br />Yes, I am still healing. &nbsp;I forever will be. &nbsp;Time does NOT heal all wounds. &nbsp;Grief does NOT get easier, it just changes. &nbsp;These are things I need to write about. &nbsp;I am thankful for those who have stuck with me, supported my efforts, and encouraged me to keep at it.<br /><br />You haven' heard the last of me...</div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-82750117716133061782016-06-02T21:40:00.000-04:002017-07-21T08:46:21.737-04:00It's Been Awhile<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">I devoted so much time creating this blog in the wake of losing Trey. &nbsp;As a matter of fact, I created this blog after chronicling my grief over Facebook as an effort to appease those who were afraid of asking me how I was doing. I told myself I would stop after a year but the response to my honesty and candor inspired me to create Angel Steps as a tribute to our son, in tribute to him. &nbsp;In the years that followed I found peace in sharing the raw honesty of grieving my child and the blessings that came along with it. &nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">I was able to channel my journey through this blog throughout my pregnancy and experience with our daughter until she was about age 1. &nbsp;That's when I got deterred from chronicling my grief journey with the excuse that I was busy with our living child. &nbsp;It's no excuse. &nbsp;I can't count how many times I have had a great idea for a blog and never followed through. &nbsp;So many wonderful outlets and opportunities wasted because I was "too busy".</span><br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">To that end I apologize to those who appreciate what I have to say, those who identify with my journey, and, least of all, to myself.</span><br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">I often sit by myself having conversations with Trey or with the universe. &nbsp;These are things I want to say to everyone but I feel selfish in taking HAPPY time away from my family and my husband to steal away time to express them.</span><br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">In my time away from this blog I haven't been blessed to celebrate so many rainbow babies and tributes to Angel Babies but I have not shared them. &nbsp;After all, this was my vision when I created Angel Steps. &nbsp;In my time away I have even had to change the website name because my credit card expired and somebody claimed my original domain.</span><br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">I only have myself to apologize to yet hold myself accountable for. &nbsp;Life has brought so much stress but, more so, much fulfillment since he grew his wings. &nbsp;He is forever with me through every hill and valley, every volcano and hurricane. &nbsp;And that is what I have been focusing on but there is still a plug I have put in place in regards to my sorrow over our son and my expression of it.</span><br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Things have changed. &nbsp;My grief has changed. &nbsp;My faith has changed.</span><br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">My love for him will only grow.</span><br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">I need only share it more. &nbsp;Take the time to heal through my own words.</span><br /><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">In time...</span></div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-47328474805462444742016-03-24T16:26:00.000-04:002016-06-02T20:46:39.001-04:00Never Really Mine<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">It's hard to admit but I never really bonded Trey the way I imagined I would.&nbsp; The way I imagined most mothers do. The truth is I only had 36 weeks to squeeze in a lifetime of bonding.&nbsp; Two of those weeks were spent in hospitals trying not to go crazy with worry about what was happening to our little bit.&nbsp; While most mothers are enjoying skin-to-skin and weathering breastfeeding at all hours of the day and night, I had to settle for pumping in a small sterile room alone wondering if and when my son would enjoy the fruits of my labor.&nbsp; Long awaited skin-to-skin was replaced with 5 minutes of positioning, tube maneuvering, cord wrestling and iv avoidance to be sure that he was safe and comfortable. Leaving the hospital as a duo instead of a family of three was not the norm but our reality, and a devastating one at that.&nbsp; Nearly two weeks of worry and increasingly daunting news does not foster bonding. Then the time we thought we had with him was cut short.<br><br>This pity party is brought to you by the fact that I was merely a vessile to carry his failing body.&nbsp; <br><br>To be clear, he is and always will be out son and first born.<br><br>That train of thought leaves the station and at the first stop is met with the folks that believe in "the plan".&nbsp; So if this was "the plan" all along, was he ever really mine?<br><br>Next stop, the town where "everything happens for a reason" is the town motto.&nbsp; Well, if everything happens for a reason, was he ever really mine?<br><br>Yet another stop where <br><br>Now into a city of hope and a promise that you will have more children.&nbsp; if I was only supposed to have other children that are living, was he ever really mine?<br><br>There is no end of the line, this train of thought rose is truly a round <br>&nbsp;trip and I can never get off.&nbsp; And as I travel around and around a lake of grief I can't help but wonder if he was ever really mine.<br><br></div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-55428921321025808942016-01-15T22:06:00.000-05:002016-01-15T22:06:13.678-05:00R-E-G-R-E-T<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I am a horrible mommy. &nbsp;I am a coward. &nbsp;I am weak. &nbsp;I gave up on him unknowingly. &nbsp;I let myself be lied to. &nbsp;I believed the lies. &nbsp;I didn't persecute the guilty. &nbsp;I couldn't handle making sure those responsible remembered and were responsible for their injustice. &nbsp;I did not look at myself from the inside out so that I could be there with him as he died. &nbsp;My husband chose to be with me, his coward wife, when he wanted to be with his son when he passed. &nbsp;I begged to see him after I birthed him but was too quick to see him beyond the machines. &nbsp;I worshipped every moment with him to the fault that I was afraid to lose him. &nbsp;I let him rest when they told me he had to be calmed down after our visits. &nbsp;I should've strengthened his heart with my presence. &nbsp;I let him down when I thought he was waiting for us to let him go. &nbsp;I live on wondering if the reason why my husband won't talk about it anymore is because I was too chicken shit to be there when our son died that he felt an obligation to be with me. &nbsp;I am guilty of not spending every moment I could with him. &nbsp;I carry on a legacy of a little man I don't even know. &nbsp;I carried him my womb and treasured every moment he was in my arms. &nbsp;Part of me knew. &nbsp;That should've made me want to be there more. &nbsp;I am a horrible mommy. &nbsp;I am a coward. &nbsp;I am weak.</div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-75334035380214568132016-01-05T12:46:00.000-05:002016-01-05T12:46:04.539-05:00It Bleeds<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">My grief bleeds in an unsteady flow depending on the grip of the tourniquet holding the flow and how large the emotional injury is.<br /><br />There are those that probably think I pick the scar to make it bleed but the truth is it itches daily and only through itching am I able to cope.<br /><br />My heart bleeds into my veins and arteries to feed my every cell so that the muscles in my legs can take one foot in front of the other through the marshes of my journey.<br /><br />My bruises internally bleed due to the compression my supposedly thick skin provides until only deep soul penetration allows the pressure to be released.<br /><br />Tears that I bleed flow for all of what is lost and the pride I have for him yet there is no tissue is strong enough to hold the oceans of brine they contain.<br /><br />My thoughts bleed from a persistently perplexed brain that struggles to understand why something like this could happen, much less to me.<br /><br />There are daydreams and nightmares that bleed from my soul of what could've been, who he would be and his everlasting freedom in Heaven.<br /><br />My conscientiousness bleeds of worry about what he thinks of how my life is turning out but encourages me to speak to him through the atmosphere.<br /><br />Living bleeds the heavy load and guilt even when the weight gets lighter and others attempt to assuage my regrets.<br /><br />Sorrow bleeds for other grieving parents whether the wound is momentarily healed or freshly opened because a trauma of this magnitude is unnecessary and a careless act of Nature.<br /><br />Songs bleed from my mouth and release feelings that swell with love for my Angel Baby one moment the absolute sorrow the next.<br /><br />The words that I bleed often aren't consistent, often seemingly clotting to form a scab that bursts open at the moment of closure.<br /><br />My love for my son continuously bleeds and I let it flow freely paying no mind to the disapproval of others.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-89964352507116314982015-11-10T07:24:00.000-05:002015-11-10T07:26:37.547-05:00Hello<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>This new song from Adele has the world buzzing and hearts seeping. &nbsp;The first verse and the chorus touch me, especially "</b><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , &quot;arial&quot;; line-height: 21.2698px;">To tell you&nbsp;</span></span><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: large; line-height: 21.2698px;">I'm sorry for breaking your heart &nbsp;</span><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: large; line-height: 21.2698px;">But it don't matter, it clearly doesn't&nbsp;</span><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: large; line-height: 21.2698px;">tear you&nbsp;</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: large; line-height: 21.2698px;">apart&nbsp;</span><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: large; line-height: 21.2698px;">Anymore</span><b style="font-size: x-large;">" </b><b style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: large;">because of Trey's heart condition.</span></b></div><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/YQHsXMglC9A" width="560"></iframe> <br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #ccccdd; font-family: &quot;verdana&quot; , &quot;arial&quot;; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 21.2698px;">Hello, it's me</span></div><div style="background-color: #ccccdd; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13.4px; line-height: 21.2698px; text-align: center;">I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet<br />To go over everything<br />They say that time's supposed to heal ya, but I ain't done much healing<br /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Hello, can you hear me?<br />I'm in California dreaming about who we used to be<br />When we were younger and free<br />I've forgotten how it felt before the world fell at our feet<br /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />There's such a difference between us<br />And a million miles<br /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Hello from the other side<br />I must've called a thousand times<br />To tell you I'm sorry for everything that I've done<br />But when I call you never seem to be home<br /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Hello from the outside<br />At least I can say that I've tried<br />To tell you I'm sorry for breaking your heart<br />But it don't matter, it clearly doesn't tear you apart<br />Anymore<br /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Hello, how are you?<br />It's so typical of me to talk about myself, I'm sorry<br />I hope that you're well<br />Did you ever make it out of that town where nothing ever happened?<br /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />It's no secret that the both of us<br />Are running out of time<br /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />So hello from the other side<br />I must've called a thousand times<br />To tell you I'm sorry for everything that I've done<br />But when I call you never seem to be home<br /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Hello from the outside<br />At least I can say that I've tried<br />To tell you I'm sorry for breaking your heart<br />But it don't matter, it clearly doesn't tear you apart<br />Anymore, ooooohh<br />Anymore, ooooohh<br />Anymore, ooooohh<br />Anymore, anymore<br /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Hello from the other side<br />I must've called a thousand times<br />To tell you I'm sorry for everything that I've done<br />But when I call you never seem to be home<br /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Hello from the outside<br />At least I can say that I've tried<br />To tell you I'm sorry for breaking your heart<br />But it don't matter, it clearly doesn't tear you apart<br />Anymore</div></div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-65118531232153292112015-10-06T15:04:00.000-04:002015-10-06T15:04:14.302-04:00The ABCs of She<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WnO5JzntMq8/VhQbA5IGGoI/AAAAAAAASyM/gbt2spoyQvs/s1600/IMAG2682.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WnO5JzntMq8/VhQbA5IGGoI/AAAAAAAASyM/gbt2spoyQvs/s320/IMAG2682.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><span id="goog_423302071"></span><span id="goog_423302072"></span><br /><br />She <b>A</b>DORES her Big Brother Trey.<br />She <b>B</b>ELIEVES he will grant her wishes.<br />She <b>C</b>OLORS pictures of him with us.<br />She <b>D</b>REAMS about him living with us.<br />She <b>E</b>MPATHIZES with our sadness.<br />She <b>F</b>EELS sad about him too.<br />She <b>G</b>IVES him kisses.<br />She <b>H</b>ELPS decorate his Christmas Tree.<br />She <b>I</b>S his Little Sister.<br />She <b>J</b>OTS down his name.<br />She <b>K</b>NOWS he catches released balloons.<br />She <b>L</b>OOKS at his pictures.<br />She <b>M</b>ISSES him.<br />She <b>N</b>EEDS to know about him.<br />She <b>O</b>FFERS him a spot on her bed.<br />She <b>P</b>ARTICIPATES in family remembrance of him.<br />She <b>Q</b>UALIFIES his existence in our family.<br />She <b>R</b>EQUESTS him to help her.<br />She <b>S</b>AYS his name.<br />She <b>T</b>ALKS about him.<br />She <b>U</b>NDERSTANDS that he is now longer sick.<br />She <b>V</b>ISUALIZES him in Heaven.<br />She <b>W</b>ANTS to know more about him.<br />She E<b>X</b>PECTS to see him in Heaven.<br />She <b>Y</b>ELLS jokingly at him when something that happens is strange.<br />She <b>Z</b>EROES in on the love she feels for him.<br /><br /></div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-2527374169684233842015-09-16T14:38:00.002-04:002015-09-16T14:38:53.369-04:00Hope Through A Hurricane Makes One Heck Of a Rainbow!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Infertility has plagued me for as long as I was trying to have children. &nbsp;As teenagers,and unmarried adults, most have been preached not to have kids out of wedlock. &nbsp;Yet, some of us never realized how difficult it would be to create the family of our dreams while others seem to pop out babies like Tic Tacs. &nbsp;My husband and I experienced this stressful and heart breaking scenario as well as many of our friends. <br /><br />One particular friend has been trying since got married 18 years ago. &nbsp;She has heard diagnosis after diagnosis, been through a gazillion tests and procedures, and lived with the nightmare that is not being able to conceive children. &nbsp;Her struggle was 8 times as long as ours yet she never abandoned hope. &nbsp;Sure there were tough times and bitterness, but most of the time her attitude was positive.<br /><br />So imagine my joy when she called me a few months ago and told me she was going to be a Mommy via adoption. &nbsp;I could've broken glass with my high pitch squeal but I was outside. &nbsp;I felt just as much excitement for her excellent news as I did for both of my kids.<br /><br />It gets me thinking of our struggle with infertility and losing our first born. &nbsp;We had to wait what seemed like an eternity to finally have a healthy baby who is EVERY bit as the Rainbow Baby we were hoping to have and more. &nbsp;Having her makes us appreciate life and its lessons so much more and reminds us to live in the moment.<br /><br />I am excited beyond measure for my friend to experience the peace after a long battle, the closure of a door which seemed like only a door frame for so long, and the long overdue love shared between parents and a child. &nbsp;I am so thankful for the woman who is willing to give my friend the true family she has always desired and I look forward to experiencing the wonderful parents they will become. &nbsp;</div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-55402513625973351442015-09-14T14:39:00.001-04:002015-09-14T14:41:01.858-04:00Turning Back Time<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I have had quite the case of writer's block as of late but an opportunity was presented to me to share our story on another site. &nbsp;In thinking about what I wanted to share, I looked back at the "The First Year" section of this blog and I barely made it through the first April blogs before I had to fight the urge to sob. &nbsp;I wanted to reach into the screen and squeeze hope back into my former self. &nbsp;I wanted to tell her about Lorelei and the great things she is going to do in honor and memory of Trey. &nbsp;I wanted to comfort her and praise her for sharing her story. <br /><br />Reading my own story sparked painful memories that I have not thought of in years. &nbsp;I have come a long way and I would like to think I have helped others through my journey. &nbsp;I hope that I am doing as well as other people say I seem to be doing. &nbsp;Sometimes I just don't know. &nbsp;I am quicker to depression, often find myself listless having little energy to do anything, and spend more time than I would like analyzing situations in my life that don't need as much attention as I give them. I have said it before and I will continue to say grieving NEVER gets easier, it just changes. <br /><br />I wish I could tell my former self that her dream of having another child would come true, but would I tell her there would be no children after her daughter? &nbsp;How would that have changed my outlook and attention to my blessings? &nbsp;Now, I mourn two children, the one I sent to Heaven and the third one I wanted to complete our family.<br /><br />The grief follows me around and sneaks up on me at the most unexpected times, like a little game. &nbsp;It is no easier and at times can be even harder than when it started. &nbsp;I watch school children my son's age go through the halls of my schools and I have to steer my attention away from remembering that he should be in school too. &nbsp;Our daughter knows about her big brother and has a very healthy attitude about him as a part of the family. <br /><br />There is still so much of the journey left to go and I feel as if I am out of the woods just not out of the storm.<br /><br />I wonder what my future self will want to tell me at this moment. &nbsp;I hope she would say that better things are surely to come and Trey is proud of me.</div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-43048349498525491172015-07-14T08:32:00.000-04:002015-07-14T08:32:23.484-04:00In My Shoes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I wear the shoes of a mother who has lost a child.<br /><br />Give me all of the advice you want but you have never been in my shoes.<br /><br />My shoes are too small and are suffocating on a daily basis.<br /><br />Yet at times, they are too big and I struggle to keep my footing.<br /><br />Sometimes my laces are too short and frayed and I can't tie them so I am unstable on my feet.<br /><br />Sometime the laces are too long and even if I tie them, I have to avoid tripping on their ends. <br /><br />There are holes worn in my shoes leaving me open to the very outside elements I am supposed to be protected from.<br /><br />Inside my shoes are bunyaned tarsals weary from the journey.<br /><br />When I try to stiffen the discomfort with socks, it only suffocates my feet even more.<br /><br />The materials in my shoes are flimsy and porous, protecting me from none of the world's hazards.<br /><br />Sometimes they feel so new, the painful blisters are a reminder.<br /><br />Everyone else thinks my shoes are sturdy and cool, but my feet know the truth.<br /><br />They are easily dirtied by the dirt of the world but not easily cleaned.<br /><br />The heals are sometimes too high for comfort and sometimes too flat for support.<br /><br />My shoes are not impressive and don't go with any outfit or situation.<br /><br />Sometimes I want to take them off and walk barefoot, no one wants to see that raw flesh.<br /><br />But these shoes carry me through my journeys as an Angel Mommy.<br /><br />They are the only protection I have from the harsh conditions<br /><br />They are not ones that I would ever choose but they are mine, my badges of courage.<br /><br />They only fit me, I could never loan them out of give them away.<br /><br />I wear them daily in all seasons and in any weather.<br /><br />They are one of a kind, priceless, ageless, forever.<br /><br />So before you criticize my journey in my shoes, why don't you try them on?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-68526706579647306172015-03-23T09:23:00.000-04:002015-03-23T09:23:21.174-04:00Trey Day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Trey, because of you, I am a Mommy. &nbsp;Because of you, my heart is fuller and my life is richer. &nbsp;There is beauty in the world that I had never noticed before I saw your eyes. &nbsp;You inspire me to reach out to others and spread sunshine to those I know and love. &nbsp;You were not here long, but I would not trade those days for the world. &nbsp;It's not easy missing you, but loving you has been a blessing. &nbsp;You and your sister make my heart smile. &nbsp;You are missed beyond measure! Happy Birthday son. &nbsp;Fly high and enjoy your day, Trey Day! &nbsp;I love you very much!&nbsp;</span></div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-31845558689374452542015-01-20T21:13:00.000-05:002015-01-20T21:13:13.273-05:00The First Time...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-size: large;">Our Rainbow daughter is a creature of habit. &nbsp;Case in point, she always expects bath, movie time, then book and a song. &nbsp;My husband and I take turns with her bedtime routine and though she is starting reading her favorites to us in her own way, when I am in charge of bedtime, she is not satisfied with the regular songs her Daddy has learned. &nbsp;She always wants to hear one of my songs. &nbsp;Tonight I felt the need to sing a new song to her, a song I sang to her brother in the womb, in the NICU, and that was played at his Memorial. &nbsp;Since then, I have had trouble listening to it so my attempt at singing it to our daughter&nbsp;faltered. &nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">I am determined to sing it to her so here is my reminder, my practice so that I can deem it a song for both of them. &nbsp;I promise, Lorelei, I will sing it to both of you always! &nbsp;</span><br /><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/r9jmusgMgro" width="420"></iframe> <br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><b style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;">"The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face"</b><br /><br /><div style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;">The first time ever I saw your face<br />I thought the sun rose in your eyes<br />And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave<br />To the dark and the endless skies, my love<br />To the dark and the endless skies<br /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />And the first time ever I kissed your mouth<br />I felt the earth move in my hand<br />Like the trembling heart of a captive bird<br />That was there at my command, my love<br />That was there at my command, my love<br /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />And the first time ever I lay with you<br />I felt your heart so close to mine<br />And I knew our joy would fill the earth<br />And last 'til the end of time, my love<br />And it would last 'til the end of time, my love<br /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />The first time ever I saw your face<br />Your face<br />Your face<br />Your face</div><div><br /></div></div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-77884518596957877592014-10-30T07:36:00.001-04:002014-10-30T07:36:39.769-04:00For My Children<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I hear this song this morning and never connected it with my children. &nbsp;That has changed.<br /><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/RwzdVHTNpXs" width="560"></iframe> <br /><b style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></b><b style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></b><b style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;">"Your Song"</b><br /><br /><div style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;">It's a little bit funny this feeling inside<br />I'm not one of those who can easily hide<br />I don't have much money but boy if I did<br />I'd buy a big house where we both could live<br /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />If I was a sculptor, but then again, no<br />Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show<br />I know it's not much but it's the best I can do<br />My gift is my song and this one's for you<br /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />And you can tell everybody this is your song<br />It may be quite simple but now that it's done<br />I hope you don't mind<br />I hope you don't mind that I put down in words<br />How wonderful life is while you're in the world<br /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss<br />Well a few of the verses well they've got me quite cross<br />But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song<br />It's for people like you that keep it turned on<br /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />So excuse me forgetting but these things I do<br />You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue<br />Anyway the thing is what I really mean<br />Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen<br /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />And you can tell everybody this is your song<br />It may be quite simple but now that it's done<br />I hope you don't mind<br />I hope you don't mind that I put down in words<br />How wonderful life is while you're in the world<br /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I hope you don't mind<br />I hope you don't mind that I put down in words<br />How wonderful life is while you're in the world</div><br style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;" /></div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-17941417470798308292014-10-29T14:41:00.001-04:002014-10-29T14:41:54.372-04:00From Where You Are<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/LBh7Muv0yac" width="420"></iframe> <br /><div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br /><b style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;"><br /></b><b style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;">"From Where You Are"</b><br /><br /><div style="border: 0px none; font-family: Verdana, Arial; font-size: 13px; margin: 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-align: center;">So far away from where you are<br />These miles have torn us worlds apart<br />And I miss you, yeah I miss you<br /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />So far away from where you are<br />I'm standing underneath the stars<br />And I wish you were here<br /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I miss the years that were erased<br />I miss the way the sunshine would light up your face<br />I miss all the little things<br />I never thought that they'd mean everything to me<br />Yeah I miss you<br />And I wish you were here<br /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I feel the beating of your heart<br />I see the shadows of your face<br />Just know that wherever you are<br />Yeah I miss you<br />And I wish you were here<br /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I miss the years that were erased<br />I miss the way the sunshine would light up your face<br />I miss all the little things<br />I never thought that they'd mean everything to me<br />Yeah I miss you<br />And I wish you were here<br /><br style="border: 0px none; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />So far away from where you are<br />These miles have torn us worlds apart<br />And I miss you, yeah I miss you<br />And I wish you were here</div></div></div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6496703255406308372.post-78781681745267513012014-10-15T20:59:00.000-04:002014-10-15T21:10:44.757-04:00Hate the Grief not the Griever<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kiqZQ3-KHAE/VD8arLX-jrI/AAAAAAAAMy8/5oeCHblPgzI/s1600/FB_IMG_1413415130696.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kiqZQ3-KHAE/VD8arLX-jrI/AAAAAAAAMy8/5oeCHblPgzI/s1600/FB_IMG_1413415130696.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div><br />Today is International Baby Loss Awareness Day as it is every October 15th. &nbsp;I have flooded my Facebook page and the Angel Steps Facebook page with candles lit in honor of Angel Babies taken too soon. &nbsp;This has caused me to reflect.<br /><br />Thankfully I have never heard it, I would cut a !@#$#@, but there are those who claim that people have told them that they should "get over" losing their child. &nbsp;I, for one, have a few things to say about that! &nbsp;(Surprising, I know!)<br /><br />The Angel Parents Club is one that NO ONE wants to join, we just happen to be in it due to horrific circumstances. &nbsp;It is a lifelong commitment with NO chance of an obligatory fee to quit. &nbsp;We are the only ones who know what it feels like to lose a baby, niece, nephew, Goddaughter, Godson, Grandchild, Great Grandchild, Cousin, 2nd Cousin, Step Daughter, Step Son, Foster Son, Foster Daughter...need I go on? &nbsp;We stand up and support our own and welcome the support of everyone yet we are judged for our plight by those who do no understand what it is like to experience such a loss.<br /><br />We speak about our children the same as any parent, they are, after all, still our children. &nbsp;We honor their memories and carry them in our hearts at whatever capacity that gives us peace. &nbsp;We rely on them as needed to help us start a new day and to put one foot in front of the other sometimes because their strength is all we have left of them. &nbsp;We don't have the rest of their lives to celebrate, only the fleeting moments that we grip on to with the strength of Atlas himself because our children, just like all, are more than dreams. &nbsp;They are hopes and plans for the future, our legacy, our progeny, our purpose for family, our bloodline, our namesake. &nbsp;In my case, Trey was John Thomas Chatham III. &nbsp;That name cannot continue and my husband and Father-In-Law are reminded of that every time they sign their name. &nbsp;Imagine how often that is. &nbsp;Try forgetting that.<br /><br />Many of us support other efforts and organizations without judgment but some see our efforts as Angel Parents as living in the past. &nbsp;Isn't that all we have, our past with our children? &nbsp;We certainly don't have a future with them. &nbsp;In fact, we can only imagine the milestones and futures our children would've had. &nbsp;We support charities and causes because it is the right thing to do, not out of pity. &nbsp;We don't want pity, simply understanding.<br /><br />We parent our living children better than we might have because we know how precious each minute is with them and we know tomorrow holds no certainties. &nbsp;We are more sensitive to those around us who are going through hard times, as, we too, have been through Hell and back and are still standing. <br />We do this because there is no other choice. &nbsp;I have been told that I am so strong. &nbsp;What choice did I have? &nbsp;Some give me that look that suggests that I off myself. &nbsp;That is not an option for me and many others but I won't judge anyone who ventured there. &nbsp;I had to live because my son could not. &nbsp;Our babies are not ready for us in Heaven, they want us to live their legacies and make them proud with our accomplishments. &nbsp;It can be inferred that they have taken the parent role in watching us make accomplishments and milestones in life instead of the other way around. &nbsp;In that case, I want to make my son proud. &nbsp; <br /><br />It is a heavy weight to bear, but the daily strength training Angel Parents do enhances our lives and makes us healthier people. &nbsp;They are our Scarlet Letter to some, but to us they are our Red Badge of Courage.<br /><br />There is no cure for what we have gone through.<br /><br />There is no law that can be passed to make it right.<br /><br />There is no political party to call upon to take it away.<br /><br />There is no army to fight it off.<br /><br />There is no god to pray to that will reverse what has happened.<br /><br />We live daily with holes in our hearts yet our hearts are full of love for our children, Earthly and Heavenly.<br /><br />We know that you can't always support our cause with donations or gifts, neither can we always reciprocate. &nbsp;Our only wish is that you support our cause with whatever you can, whether it be funding, prayers or hugs. &nbsp;We always pledge the same. &nbsp;We did not choose this, we only want to live and love through it.</div>mysharona76http://www.blogger.com/profile/17911641257808513096noreply@blogger.com0